Showing posts with label Cabernet Sauvignon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cabernet Sauvignon. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Bark and Bite in the Touraine, or Clos Roche Blanche is The Schist

I was reading around my usual circuits of the blogosphere yesterday in search of a little inspiration and found it in the form of a rave from Mike Drapkin at The Schist. [Link now defunct, as is The Schist, I'm sorry to report.] The quest for what to open with dinner – grilled New York strip, a birthday treat from my wife – was complete. And while I could have opted for a special bottle of Barolo, Brunello or that old chophouse classic California Cab, what I opted for instead was Cabernet of a different ilk.


Touraine Cabernet, Clos Roche Blanche 2006. $16. 12.5% alcohol. Nomacorc. Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.
The label image above is borrowed from the 2005 vintage and Mike wrote-up the 2007. I went with the 2006, which just happened to be hanging out at home, waiting its turn in line. This is cool climate Cabernet Sauvignon, full of bark and bite. It’s a little darker and more brooding than the typically lean, light Cabernets of the Anjou yet is much brighter and snappier than the Cabernets we all know from warmer climes. More like a scrappy terrier or whip smart border collie than the muscular, sometimes plodding rottweilers and mastiffs of Bordeaux and Napa. Its nose is typical of Clos Roche Blanche in general, outdoorsy, animal and very forthcoming, pretty much brimming with fresh crushed blackberries and currants spiked with a sprig of bay laurel. The wine’s jagged texture requires food, its cool tannins standing out in stark relief to its bright, medium-bodied fruit. A match made in heaven for a rich cut of steak done black and blue, no. It worked well enough, though, that a second pour effortlessly found its way into my glass. And it’s a wine so loaded with life and character that I’d be happy to drink it on a regular basis, which seems to be a recurring theme with me when it comes to CRB.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

WBW 48 and MFWT 300: A Blast from My Past

Well, it’s that time of the month again – Wine Blogging Wednesday time. Today marks the 48th installment of the venerable institution, making it the 4th anniversary of the event started way back in 2004 by Lenn Thompson of LennDevours. By way of celebration, Lenn is also hosting today’s edition. It’s a milestone of sorts for me as well – my 300th post. So, a special thank you goes out to Lenn, not only for hosting but also for his serendipitous good timing.

Mr. Thompson’s theme for the day is getting back to your roots. Your wine drinking roots, that is. In his words, “I just want you to pick one of the wines from the beginning of your journey, taste it again for the first time in a while, and tell us about it.”

I’ve decided to tell you about three different wines, representing three different phases of my formative wine years. In a rare example of MFWT restraint, though, I’m only going to revisit one. However, so as not to disappoint anyone, I promise to spice things up a bit in another fashion. It’s a long journey, so sit back and relax.

While wine has been an important part, parcel and passion of my adult years, it took a distant back seat, from my childhood all the way through young adulthood, to music. I wrote about music long before I ever dreamed of writing about wine. Though I’m nowhere near as actively involved in the music scene as I was at one time, music – like wine – remains a strong driving force in my life. So, without further ado, here’s an entry from McDuff’s Wine & Music Trail: the formative years.

Part One: Early History

It’s not that wine was never around my house or on the table when I was a kid. For my folks, though, wine was not a serious matter of interest. The bottles that did make it onto the table were generally the usual suspects of the 1970s: Mateus and Lancers, Black Tower and, only around the holidays, Andre Cold Duck. It’s the latter of the bunch, the purple, fizzy juice called Cold Duck, which stands out most clearly in memory. Whether there’s any truth to it I’ll never know but my parents were convinced that Cold Duck was my grandmother’s favorite tipple. So almost without fail, it made an appearance on the table at every Thanksgiving and Christmas meal throughout my childhood years. No offense to Andre, whoever he is, but I’m not about to plunk down any of my hard earned cash on a bottle of Cold Duck, even if it is for WBW. So, you’ll have to settle for a picture (courtesy of WineChef) and a taste of what I might have been listening to before sitting down to one of those holiday meals.

My first teensy taste ever might have coincided with something like this:


By the time I was allowed a real sip or two, it was probably more like this:


And during the heart of my skateboarding years of teen rebellion, it just might have been:

Cold Duck was there all the way.



Part Two: The Awakening

What was the first wine that really opened my eyes? I hate to tell you I can’t remember exactly what it was. I do remember, though, where and when I drank it, at a long defunct restaurant in Baltimore. I think the name was Auberge or Aubergine… it’s been a long time. I was in college and was also a pretty strict vegetarian at the time. Our waitress suggested a wine for our meal, a Mosel Riesling, most likely a Kabinett from the late 70’s or early 80’s. I remember that much, just not the producer or any more specific information. What I definitely remember is an incredibly refreshing, flavorful blast of apple and peach fruit, and the distinct minerality of the wine. It was also great with whatever was on my plate. I was sold. Not to the point of becoming an instant wine geek, mind you, but I was henceforth very interested in the possibilities. It would just be another few years before I really dove in and started to explore them.

Riesling remains, to this day, one of my true wine passions. Because I write about it here with some regularity, I opted not to pick one as the wine to taste for this episode. If that bums you out, there’s plenty to read here. At around the time of that eye-opening bottle, by the way, I was almost certainly into something like this:

The sound/video quality's not great but it was a fun show.


Part Three: The Trail

By the late 1980s, wine had become a much more regular exploration for me. It was during my first trip to the Napa Valley in the early 90s, though, that the big bug really bit. I was accompanied by the woman who would eventually become my wife. And I was hooked. California Cabernet (and Merlot, Zinfandel, Chardonnay, Riesling, etc.) would become my primary focus for the next few years. I was already exploring European wines at the time but the best wines we tasted on that trip took me in their grip.

We visited several wineries on that first journey, as well as taking in the sites of the valley. The winery that really stood out for me was V. Sattui. Their tasting room is a pretty little spot on Highway 29 between Rutherford and St. Helena, right in the heart of the valley. It’s still a fun place to stop for a picnic lunch and a glass of wine. We tasted everything they offered us that day, from Muscat and Gamay Rosé to estate bottled Cabs. I joined their wine club on the spot, my first and, to this day, only wine club. I’ve long since canceled my membership and long since consumed most of the wines. I also don’t drink California wines nearly as often as back then. However, there are still a few bottles of V. Sattui Cabernet Sauvignon, just a few, lingering in my cellar from the latter days of that monthly subscription. Lenn’s choice of topics has given me a perfect excuse to dispatch with one of them.

Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon “Suzanne’s Vineyard,” V. Sattui Winery 1995
I’m consistently amazed at how differently good California wines and good European wines evolve. At thirteen years from its vintage, this is still extremely solid in color, a dark ruby red just barely going pale around the edge of the glass. It’s also still surprisingly sturdy, with resolved but firm tannins and an edge of acidity that still merits a good grilled steak. 1995 sits right between the two benchmark vintages of ’94 and ’97 in Napa, a period when things started to change from the leaner, food friendly styles of the past into today’s prevalent big-point, fruit-bomb style. This bottle still shows a sweet fruited element that’s typical to wines from the period but it also possesses a real sense of Napa Valley terroir that’s all too hard to find in many of today’s wines.

The first thing I notice when I stuck my nose in the glass was a pure blast of eucalyptus, immediate and unmistakable. Following that minty nose were hints of thyme and cedar riding on a crest of medium-rich red currant fruit. The oak influence is still present but drying and well balanced by the wine’s other traits. After an hour or two of air, the alcohol – even at a modest, fairly old school 13% level – makes itself more known than I’d like. I’d hardly chalk it up as a classic of the ages, but it’s still a pretty solid wine, one that hasn’t lost touch with its roots. I’d be happy to drink it again.

Oh yeah, the tunes….

These guys were there for me through Parts 2 and 3, and they're still turning me on today.

Friday, July 18, 2008

A Young Riesling and an Old Cabernet

A few notes from not long ago, when I cooked up a simple dinner of pork chops, roasted potatoes and salad for a co-worker/pal and myself. Just for the heck of it, really, there was no occasion whatsoever. It was late – and a school night – so we didn’t go crazy opening stuff but did end up with a couple of interesting if oddly matched wines.


Longuicher Maximiner Herrenberg Riesling Kabinett, Carl Schmitt-Wagner 2005
Though I don’t do it nearly often enough, I love starting with a Mosel Kabinett as an aperitif. They carry the added benefit of being one of the few wine styles that actually work with, as opposed to begrudgingly sit with, the salad course. At first glance, this was muted, aside from a healthy dose of sulfur on the nose, and seemed poised to disappoint. Luckily, it became more and more interesting with time in the glass. Intensely apply, with ripe gala and golden delicious fruit, cut through by a vein of pungent, slate-laced minerality. Though not as nervy as I tend to like, it had a pleasantly round acid profile, soft yet still uplifting on the finish. Peach nectar and orange oil emerged on the mid-palate. Lovely if slightly simple aperitif-style Kabinett and a surprisingly good value in the increasingly expensive world of German wine. $16.50. 8.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: A Terry Theise Selection, Michael Skurnik Wines, Syosset, NY.

Santa Cruz Mountains Cabernet Sauvignon "Bates Ranch," Santa Cruz Mountain Vineyard 1987
This was my dining buddy’s contribution, a cellar holdover from an earlier era. The label art, which surprisingly hasn’t changed much since 1987, actually makes the Schmitt-Wagner look new school. And the wine was correspondingly old school. Not unlike the Riesling, this started out a little muddy and unfocused, showing possible signs of being a little worse for wear. But like the Riesling, it opened up to reveal some definite interest. Wild red cassis fruit, a little bay leaf and black spice and a spine of rocky earth came to the fore. Tannins were fully resolved with acidity in good balance. On the off chance that you’re holding any of this, it’s definitely time to drink. But it remains a compelling example of hillside Santa Cruz Cabernet and a taunting reminder of times past. Just try to find 12.5% California Cab today…. 95% Cabernet Sauvignon from Bates Ranch and 5% Merlot from Bien Nacido Ranch, all dry farmed. Release price unknown; current vintage is $28 from winery. 12.5% alcohol. Cork.

Update: By freak coincidence, Joe Manekin over at Old World Old School wrote-up a bottle of Santa Cruz Mountains Vineyard 1979 Cabernet on this very day. Check out his post.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

A Duo of the Trio Infernal

It’s the busy season ‘round these parts. Though I’ve already hit on some of the highlights from the Brewer’s Plate on Sunday, I’d be remiss in not mentioning the earlier part of the day’s doubleheader. Two winegrowers – Peter Fischer (pictured, at left) from Coteaux d’Aix en Provence and Laurent Combier (at right) from Crozes-Hermitage – stopped by the shop for a meet, greet and taste with our customers. I spent the entire business portion of the day pouring, discussing their wines with the attendees and offering the occasional half-assed attempt at translation for Laurent (whose English is as good as my French, which is to say awkwardly serviceable) when Peter wasn’t near enough to save me.

I’ve written about one of Domaine Combier’s wines here before. They’re old favorites of mine – beautifully detailed and freshly fruit driven examples of Northern Rhône Syrah. We tasted his 2006, which was fresh off the boat. His name for it is “Cuvée Classique,” though it’s simply labeled as Crozes-Hermitage. The 2006 is a bit leaner and snappier than the more robust 2005 and certainly not as soft, rich and developed as the 2003. Nonetheless, the Asian spice, citrus zest and fresh crushed red berries that form the signature aromatic profile of Combier’s reds are present as always.

The day’s tasting progression actually started with the basic Coteaux d’Aix en Provence rouge from Peter Fischer’s estate, Château Revelette. In the past I’ve often found myself on the fence about Peter’s wines, not really understanding the whites, the rosé or the more heavily elaborated red, “Grand Rouge.” It’s amazing what a difference actually meeting a vigneron and getting to learn more about the peculiarities of an estate and its terroir can make. In other words, I really enjoyed his basic rouge. Peter selected it for the day because he wanted to highlight the typicity of his region, which is at the northern extreme and highest altitude of the sprawling Coteaux d’Aix appellation. The cool nights in the hills of the region help to keep the fruit healthy and fresh on the vine, retaining more acidity than typical in the more arid, southern parts of the region. The wine is a blend, in roughly equal parts, of Grenache, Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon, fermented and aged in tank only. Medium bodied and with a lively acid profile, its combination of brambly black fruits and freshness recommends itself to a wide range of culinary matches.

Though both Fischer and Combier make a fairly broad portfolio of wines at their own estates, their primary purpose for the voyage was to present the wines from their new venture: Trio Infernal. The two men, along with Jean-Michel Gerin of Côte-Rôtie, bought a property in Spain’s Priorat in 2002. The three growers take turns, always two at a time, making the seven-hour road trip to Priorat once every week or two, staying for non-stop stints of 24-36 hours at a time. Of course, a full-time worker is on-hand at all times to ensure the health of the vines. As at both of their home estates, farming at the Infernal is organic and done purely by hand. A modestly natural approach is taken in the winery, with no fining, only light filtration and minimal application of sulfur.

The first two vintages at the estate were trying: 2002 for its heavy rains and 2003 for its high heat and drought conditions. In 2004, Peter explained that the trio got their arms fully around the nuances of the land, turning out wines that, by Priorat standards, were quite elegant. 2005 gave wines of more puissance – stronger of flavor, slightly fuller and a touch more tannic. For now, the trio produces only a duo of wines. Befitting their understandable obsession with the number three, they are simply called No. 1/3 and No. 2/3 (number one of three, number two of three, not one/third, two/third). They plan eventually to produce a third wine but don’t yet know what it will be.

No. 1/3 is a blend of 40% Carignan and 60% Grenache from vines spanning an age range from 15-35 years. It’s fermented in tank then aged in barrels of one, two, three and four wines. Though it’s firm of grip, there’s a bright red-fruit driven palate and young flavor profile that makes it approachable now. Laurent deems it worthy of up to eight years in the cellar; Peter ups the ante to ten.

No. 2/3 is 100% varietal Carignan, produced from extremely low yielding vines that were planted in 1906. Here, Carignan – usually relegated as a blending-only variety – shows that it can have something to say in its own right when produced from healthy, ancient vines. There’s an unmistakable aroma of dark cocoa powder and cinnamon along with crushed mulberries, all of which echo on the palate. This cuvee sees some new oak, which shows in the mouth but with good integration and in balance with the wine’s tannic structure. Both men find the wine tight at the moment and suggest it may go for twenty years. On day two, both wines were fully together, showing more openly ripe, slightly pruned dark berry and plummy fruit.

Typical Frechmen? It's a source of befuddlement for me that so many winemakers smoke. It doesn't seem to stop these guys from turning out good wines.

I’m the first to admit that I don’t drink much Priorat. Heck, I don’t drink much Spanish wine period. However, these two do show greater finesse and, not to overuse a good word, freshness than I’ve experienced in many other wines of the region. If there’s a problem, it’s that the wines fall hard in the context of QPR. At $50-60 and $100-110 respectively, they may be reasonably normal in the Priorat price range. I even understand the prices to a point; land costs are high, labor conditions are extreme and the journey alone is arduous. But I plain can’t afford to drink them. Thus is admitted one of the most commonly shared guilty pleasures of the public and private tasting experience.

If anyone out there has tried these wines or has other Priorats to recommend (or avoid), I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

BYOB: Wines at Marigold Kitchen

Lest ye despair, faithful readers, that I have foregone the pleasures of wine at repast, fear not. I have just been focusing of late on catching up with things on the Philly front. And along the way, I’ve decided that when writing up BYOB restaurants, it would be best not to intertwine wine notes into the restaurant report. After all, wine at BYOs, though hardly an afterthought on my part, is not selected nor purveyed by the establishment.

One of the beautiful benefits of the BYOB culture so prevalent in Philadelphia is the opportunity it affords to sample several bottles over the course of a meal. Leftovers can always be carried home or, more magnanimously, shared with the service and kitchen staff or even with neighboring diners. At a licensed restaurant, one might be more likely to scrimp or hoard, as high mark-ups can quickly and quietly change an evening’s outing from comfortable to extravagant. When dining in spots with liquor licenses, I’ll continue to include wine and beverage commentary in the central report, as I consider the wine list an integral element of the overall full-service restaurant experience.

So, consider this episode one of a new thread: the BYO wine list. During a recent meal at Marigold Kitchen, my dining partners and I enjoyed...

Champagne Grand Cru “Cuvée Rosé,” Delavenne Père et Fils NV
Delavenne is a small grower producer (RM) Champagne house located in Bouzy, with vineyards there, in Ambonnay and in Cramant. Their “Cuvée Rosé” is not a rosé de saignée but rather a blend of 50% Chardonnay and 38% Pinot Noir (white juice only) made pink by the addition of 12% Bouzy Rouge, a still wine made from 100% Pinot Noir. Fresh and fruit forward, bursting with delicate aromas and flavors of raspberries, strawberries and orange peel, hinting only ever so slightly at an underlying yeastiness, it made for an excellent aperitif. By sheer stroke of luck, it turned out to be pretty tasty with our beet and almond amuse bouche.
$48. 12% alcohol. Natural cork closure. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.


Kremstal Grüner Veltliner “Holzgasse” Qualitatswein trocken, Weingut Buchegger 2006
Austrian wine seems to have achieved a renaissance in the popular mind over the last few years, with the unfortunate side effect of sky-rocketing prices. A Federspiel from a good producer now often costs what a Smaragd from the same grower did only two or three years ago. That inflation has put an awful lot of tempting wines up in the $30+ starting price range. So when I found a Qualitatswein Grüner Veltliner priced in the mid-teens during a recent trip down to State Line Liquors, it caught my eye. The producer, Weingut Buchegger, was an unknown quantity to me; its importer, though, is on my short list of most trusted back labels. I snatched it up posthaste. Was it worth the money? Yes. Was it worth the enthusiasm? No. , Buchegger’s GV “Holzgasse” paired well enough in a neutral sense with appetizers ranging from sweetbreads to tuna carpaccio to celery root and hazelnut soup, yet it added little in the way of spark or nuance, serving mainly as clean, proper refreshment. Simple and slightly fat in texture, it was reasonably well balanced but lacked the nerve and peppery, citrus and floral characteristics I crave in a better example of Grüner Veltliner.
$17. 12.5% Alcohol. Stelvin closure. Importer: Weygandt-Metzler Importing, Unionville, PA.

Bourgogne Hautes Côtes de Nuits, Domaine Olivier & Anne-Marie Rion 2004
This turned out to be one of those wines that justified my practice of toting a half dozen bottles with me when I go to a BYOB. One reason for the heavy baggage is to allow for a range of choices to match the dishes that I and my dining partners select. The other primary reason is insurance. It’s extremely frustrating to arrive with only one bottle in hand, open it and find that it’s corked or otherwise flawed. It’s happened to me in the past and I won’t let it happen again.

This bottle wasn’t corked but it had clearly leaked. I immediately suspect heat damage in this scenario. However, this bottle was purchased at a temperature controlled wine shop which procures its goods through a climate controlled supply chain. It then slept for a year or two in my temp controlled cellar. Nonetheless, the cork was stained up and down its sides and oozing wine had formed a sticky mess under the capsule. Most likely, then, this was simply a faulty cork or a bottle that had been laid down in its box on the bottling line before its cork had time to expand and form a perfect seal. The end result, though the juice was still quite drinkable, was a wine that had been robbed by slight oxidation of both freshness and clarity of color. When last tasted, it was lively, bright and just coming into its own. This bottle was round, generous in texture yet dull in its acidity and features, like bland cherry compote. It was just alive enough to make an adequate mate to my pork loin and the olive oil poached salmon selected by one of my pals; it just wasn’t all it could have been.
$19. 13% alcohol. Natural cork closure. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.

Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon “Estate Grown on Mount Veeder,” The Hess Collection 1997
Opened vaguely to accompany our cheese course but primarily as something to taste as we relaxed after dinner, this was also the sentimental selection of the evening. Our dining partners, visiting from California, had brought this bottle to me as a gift several years ago. It’s a shame that California Cabs built along this scale are all but a thing of the past. Though not as brooding and briary as wines more redolent of their Howell Mountain origins, this was well balanced, eminently drinkable and food friendly Cabernet. Its 13% alcohol is all but a thing of the past. Still showing potential for several more years in the cellar, there was plenty of freshness, with tannins full and plush. Black currant and blackberry fruit dominated with a touch of black cherry, cedar and spice rounding out the package.
Release price unknown. 13% alcohol. Natural cork closure.

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Irouléguy, Domaine Brana 1999

Time may have softened the tannins of Domaine Brana’s 1999 Irouléguy but it’s done little else to calm the wine’s inherently sauvage nature. Initial aromas of dry-aged meat, dried herbs and stewed green peppers meet the nose, followed on the palate by slightly angular wood tannins and firm, somewhat narrow texture. As the wine opens in the glass, herbaceous aromas give way to wild plums and sour cherries. The dry woodiness also blows off, letting the ferrous quality and wild fruit of this typically Basque wine show through. Finally, again with air time, riper, rounder grape tannins take over from the subsiding wood tannins, giving the wine richness in the mouth that belies its medium-bodied scale and old-school alcohol level.

This is arguably the most typical of Domaine Brana’s reds – more solid, fine and age worthy than the rustic Ohitza and less rich and modern than Axeria. All three are blends dominated by Cabernet Franc, supported by Cabernet Sauvignon and Tannat. There’s structure here to allow further cellaring but I’m not convinced that patience will reap further rewards as this seems to be riding its plateau now, retaining solid fruit yet showing the tertiary aromas of bottle development.
Approximately $25 on release. 12.5% alcohol. Natural cork closure. Importer: Wine Traditions, Falls Church, VA.

Opening this bottle was unplanned. It just seemed to call to me when I opened the cellar door in search of something to pair with Christmas dinner. Though I was hardly preparing a traditional Basque meal, the Irouléguy nonetheless seemed an appropriate match to roast duck magret served with a woodsy Portobello mushroom risotto and, just to get some green on the plate, steamed broccoli. The risotto was a fine match but it was really the duck that made the wine sing.

I like to keep a couple of D’Artagnan's duck breasts on hand at all times. They hold up extremely well in the freezer. Once thawed, they require nothing other than a generous sprinkle of salt and pepper followed by a good pan sear over medium heat to render and crisp the fat layer, followed by roasting in the oven, fat side up. Pouring off and saving the rendered fat is just an added bonus, one that will add a wonderful depth of flavor to eggs, beans or potatoes at a future meal.

* * *
Relevant goodies:

Sunday, April 29, 2007

Napa: A Day of Contrasts, Part One

When working in the wine trade, it becomes quite common for wine visits – part pleasure, part work – to be intertwined with personal vacation. Case in point: when making a long overdue trip to visit some good friends in Monterey, California earlier this year, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take them along for the three-hour drive up to the Napa/Sonoma heartland for a few days of wine exploration. After two very relaxing days investigating the Sonoma, Russian River Valley and Healdsburg areas, we capped things off with a whirlwind of a day in Napa. Our choice of winery visits that day, Harlan Estate and Stony Hill Vineyard, proved to be a most unusual combination, a stark study in contrasts.

Morning session – Harlan Estate:
As it stands today, Harlan Estate is the end result of the classic California modest-to-magnificent entrepreneurial success story. A butcher’s son, founder Bill Harlan grew up in Southern California. As an adult, he and some friends founded Pacific Union Realty, where Bill quickly amassed a fortune through strong investments and a good head for the market. When the wine bug eventually bit, he leveraged his capital to become a partner in Merryvale Vineyards. During his tenure at Merryvale, Bill’s dream, to create a Napa Valley equivalent to the First Growth châteaux of the left bank of Bordeaux, eventually gave birth to what is now Harlan Estate. He spent roughly ten years purchasing and piecing together the six original properties that now make up Harlan’s 240-acre spread. Today, forty acres are under vine, with a pure focus on hillside vineyards; the remaining 200 acres consist of building lots and protected forest area. Since their first vintage in 1990, Harlan has quickly built a reputation for producing one of the most highly sought after and expensive wines in the state, appearing on just about every major critic’s top-five list of most collectible California “cult wines.”

Before I proceed too much further, I should warn you: don’t get your hopes up, wine country tourists. Harlan is not typically open to visitors. As a rule, they accept only one visit per week, always by appointment only, almost always by a member of the trade or a large-scale, existing customer. I lucked my way into an appointment via the trade route as I work at a shop which is one of the few retail outlets in the country for the wines of Harlan. Again, don’t get your hopes up, shoppers. Every bottle is pre-sold. The wine never makes it onto the shelves. It probably doesn’t in any store. Frankly, Harlan could get away with never accepting visitors. They’d still sell every bottle they make. But any good marketing mind knows that allowing an occasional peek at the elite builds demand and anticipation. To that end, Harlan Estate employs a full-time hospitality and PR manager, Ted Davidson.

Ted’s job began well before our arrival. I don’t believe I’ve ever received so many confirmation and informational phone calls and e-mails for a single winery visit. His last call provided details for a detour, through the vineyard paths of neighbors on the valley floor, around some unannounced road work on the lane leading up to Harlan’s unmarked, private drive. Once through the electronic security gate, we wound up the switchback drive to find Ted ready to guide us into an appropriate parking position. Our first stop on the tour was less than typical. A set of wooden stairs led to a wooden landing built into the hillside looking down onto Harlan’s lower vineyards and the valley below. Waiting on the landing were five Riedel flutes and a chilled bottle of Bollinger NV Brut Champagne – not a bad way to get things started. We enjoyed our early morning glasses of bubbly while learning a bit about the history, mission and landscape of the estate, our discussion intermittently accented by snips from the pruning shears of the Central American field crew working the vines immediately below us.

The terraced vineyards at Harlan spread across the hillsides of their property over an elevation range from 200-1200 feet. The dips and curves of the Oakville Grade provide for a diversity of exposition and slope, leading to the identification by Harlan’s vineyard manager of over 60 different block characteristics. Typical to the terroir of Oakville, which includes a high percentage of Napa and Sonoma volcanic soil, Cabernet Sauvignon rules the roost, representing about 80% of the estate’s plantings. Vines are rounded out by Merlot (10%) as well as Cabernet Franc and Petit Verdot which together comprise the remaining 10%. About 40 different plot and vine-specific barrel selections are made by the winemaking team, giving them a great degree of flexibility and nuance when determining the final blend in any given vintage. Fruit is not put into production here until the sixth or seventh leaf; vines are considered mature at 15-20 years depending upon site and variety. With yields ranging from 1.5 to 2.5 tons per acre, fairly low by Napa standards, concentration and quality are sought first and foremost. Roughly 20% of each year’s crop – produce from the youngest vines and fruit not quite up to grade – is sold off anonymously on the local market. Anonymity is strictly maintained to avoid possibility of brand dilution via the creation of “Harlan Vineyard” bottlings by any other producers.

The biggest parts of the typical visit, a walk through the vineyards and a tour of the cellars and winery, turn out to be Ted’s simplest. We set not one foot in a vineyard, viewing the plants and earth only from our perch on the hillside deck and from the upper driveway. And the winery is the epitome of simplicity. Harlan makes only two wines, both red and both relatively non-interventionist. As a result, equipment is kept to the highest quality basics. Because bottling is simultaneous for both wines and done only once per year, hiring a mobile bottling unit is preferred to owning and maintaining in-house equipment. Most primary fermentation (about 80%) is carried out in open-top oak casks, with the remaining 20%, mostly for the Merlot and Cabernet Franc, conducted in steel. Aside from space for the vats, a bladder press, de-stemmer and a few other necessities, the majority of the pristinely clean, unadorned yet handsomely designed space is given over to barrel storage. To support the richness and structure of their fruit, Harlan uses 100% new barriques in which their wines age for 26 months, resulting in three vintages resting in barrel at any given time. Cooperage is of the highest quality. The center exterior portion of each barrique is intentionally “painted” with a coating of its contents, giving the barrel room a warm, organic yet highly manicured aura. We were not offered barrel tasting samples.

For our final destination, Ted led us into the hospitality section of the winery, a single, high-ceilinged, exposed beam room with a lounge area, tasting/dining table and one of Mr. Harlan’s three private wine libraries (books, not bottles). Floor-to-ceiling glass doors span each length of the room and, in warmer weather, can be opened to admit the hillside breezes and provide a panoramic view of vines and benchland forest. In this “hunting lodge chic” room, the hopes of something to taste would finally be realized. First though, all of us relaxing in the black leather arm chairs in the sitting area, Ted took the opportunity to provide us with a fuller understanding of the concept of the estate.

As mentioned earlier, Bill Harlan’s original and continuing vision is for his property and wines to be thought of in the same way one might consider the greatest estates of Bordeaux. When one mentions Château Latour or Château Lafite-Rothschild, the idea goes, there is little need to mention that they are located in Pauillac and, in theory at least, there should be no need to mention grape variety. They are known simply as “Latour” and as “Lafite.” This aim is reflected in the branding campaign, the labeling and the packaging of Harlan’s two wines. In addition to elegant and consistent artwork, the labels simply state the name of the wine and the place of origin. Grape names do not appear and there is no “story” on the back label. Also like many of the most respected estates of the Médoc, Harlan produces only two wines: their first-quality wine, Harlan Estate, and a second wine, The Maiden. The Maiden is not intentionally crafted to be gentler, simpler or cheaper; rather, it is an honest second wine, produced from the younger vine fruit of the estate and from barrel selections that do not make the cut for the first wine. And like the great growths of the Gironde, Harlan’s wines are expensive. The most recent releases, straight from Harlan’s mailing list, were priced at $350 and $100 per bottle. Good luck finding them at those prices once they hit the retail and secondary markets. Harlan Estate, in particular, can at least double in value as soon as it hits the shelf or the auction block. They are wines only for the wealthy, the lucky and the foolhardy; that said, the wines are good.

When we finally got down to the business of tasting, we realized that we were, after all, being offered barrel samples. The final blend of the 2004s had been racked for bottling just days earlier; the half-bottles of each wine we’d spied on the coffee table had been pulled from the bottling vat that very morning.

The Maiden 2004 offers a lush, forward mouthful of plum, raspberry and blueberry fruit with a subtle hint of menthol, all framed by ripe, fine-grained tannins. The wine is built to last but already, before even undergoing its destined sixteen months of pre-release bottle aging, eminently drinkable. Less than 1000 cases of The Maiden are produced each year and it is offered for sale only via the estate’s mailing list. Contrary to popular myth, you need not “know someone” to get on Harlan’s list. Anyone interested can sign up and all will be offered a limited number of bottles of The Maiden in the first year. It will, however, typically take three or more years of purchasing The Maiden before access to the Harlan Estate bottling is offered. Once you’re offered Harlan, your previous allocation of The Maiden is turned over to new customers.

Not much remained at this point of our visit other than the pièce de résistance. Harlan Estate 2004 is seriously good juice. Black cherry in color and opaque at its core, it shows a lovely tint of ripe cherry red at its rim. The flavors are bigger, more powerful and brooding relative to The Maiden. Its tannins are firmer and more muscular. One senses a serious expression of the Oakville hillside terroir, not loaded up with unwieldy winemaking flourishes. Flavors of concentrated black currant, blackberry and roasted meats prevail, with tremendous length on the finish. Winemaker Bob Levy targets a 20 year peak for this wine, well beyond the current trend for a 5-10 year apogee at most Napa wineries. By contemporary standards, its alcohol content is reasonable at 14.5%; its balance is impeccable. I’d love to have some of this in my cellar. At $350+ per bottle though, I can’t afford a drop of the stuff – and Ted wouldn’t sell me any that day, even if I could. At least two-thirds of Harlan’s limited 1,500 case production is sold directly to mailing list customers. The balance goes primarily to high-end restaurants and to a very limited number of retail outlets.

At the end of the morning, when Ted made it clear that our time was done, it was hard not to leave feeling impressed. Harlan’s property is one of the most spectacular, not in ostentation but rather in natural position, in Napa wine country. It was also hard not to feel like we’d been rolled through a highly practiced exercise, seeing and hearing only what is desired. And tasting, it seems, only by luck. If not for the recent racking of the 2004’s, I was left wondering if we’d have been served any samples. Even on visits to Latour and Lafite in the winter of 2004, in full knowledge that I was not representing a buyer of their products, I was offered at least two or three vintages of the marquee wine plus several back vintages of the second wines. But then, their production levels are about ten times that of Harlan – and their history and experience centuries longer. It will be interesting to see how the vision at Harlan Estate stands the test of time.

Stay tuned for a report on part two of the day. Our visit to Stony Hill Vineyard would prove to be another world relative to the morning’s adventure.

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